Knock Out
by XrhiaX
Summary: Set sometime after The Girl In The Fireplace; 10Rose. Rose is quick to forgive the Doctor, but Mickey is most certainly not. Someone needs to talk some sense into the Time Lord, so why not Mickey the idiot? Of course, it goes downhill rather quickly when The Doctor fires his fist into Mickey's face. Oneshot, kind of Whumpy. Nice bit of fluff at the end, though.


It was surprisingly tense when Rose left the TARDIS. Or at least, it was now - since she had left Mickey and the Doctor alone for nearly, oh, a whole three minutes now. Where was she, again? Oh, right. She'd gone to take their collective laundry to Jackie, and retrieve the last load that they'd dropped off. She would be a few minutes more, at the most. Another minute ticked by, the Doctor sitting in the jump seat before the control console, and Mickey leaning against the railing, watching the blue wooden doors over his shoulder.

"So … Ricky," The Doctor began conversationally, standing up and wandering toward the controls of his ship.

Before he could say anything else, Mickey interjected, "It's Mickey. I've told you a hundred times now," in an irritated tone.

"Right, Mickey," the Doctor corrected himself, eyes flicking from the buttons and levers before him to the other man in the room. It had been a few days since the incident on the 51st century ship and Jean-Antoinette Poisson, and from what he could tell, Mickey was still annoyed with him for having left him and Rose alone, with no means of getting … well, anywhere.

It didn't make much sense, though. Rose didn't seem even to remember it, let alone hold a grudge over it. Speaking of Rose, there had been something on the Doctor's mind, that he'd wanted to ask about.

"So, Rose," he suddenly said, pushing his lips together thoughtfully, "No A-levels. Funny that, isn't it? She's certainly got the brains for it."

Mickey looked from the front door of the TARDIS to the Doctor with a look of distain on his face, as if he didn't think the Doctor should even be allowed to speak Rose's name. "So?" he replied, his tone clipped and distant.

The Doctor stared at Mickey for a moment, the tension in the air so thick he was sure it could be cut with a knife, before he went on, "Well, just wondered why she hasn't got any A-levels. You've known her longer than me," he recalled, remembering little Mickey at the wedding - during a past fiasco, after Rose had saved her own father from his impending death. "A lot longer," he added on, "D'you know anything about that?"

Mickey blinked at the Doctor, then said, "Yeah," and looked away again.

"And?" he Doctor pressed.

Mickey exhaled in annoyance. "She left school," he forced out. "Early. Before she got her A-levels. Whatever. I thought you and her were best mates - hasn't she already told you about it?" he asked, eyes flicking from the front doors of the TARDIS to the Doctor again, though the distant and cold expression on his face remained, now twinged with disregard.

The Doctor opened his mouth to say something, then paused. "Erm … No," he replied, sounding a bit surprised with it. "Why do you reckon she hasn't told me about it?" he inquired, tilting his head back and pondering.

Mickey watched the Doctor for a moment, and then slowly smiled. "Ah," he said, with realization. "I know why," he drawled, shaking his head and giving a few short laughs. The Doctor looked at him with confusion on his face - the face Rose was crazy about, Mickey mused dryly - and Mickey went on to say, "She doesn't talk to you about it for the same reason you didn't talk to her about Sarah Jane."

The Doctor only managed a short, "Oh."

"Yeah," Mickey pushed away from the rail and tucked his hands into his pockets, looking down, "It's bad manners, innit? Talk to the new bloke about the ex."

The Doctor leant against the console and crossed his arms over his chest. "So it was a bloke, then?" he asked, sounding just a little more interested than he'd meant to.

"Jimmy Stone," Mickey said, screwing up his face. He looked up and met the Doctor's curious gaze. "You're not the first bloke to come and sweep her away from home and show her things she hasn't seen before. Oh, he was a right chav, though; hated him with a passion," Mickey scoffed a laugh and shook his head.

The Doctor mulled this over, for a moment. He had come to terms with the idea that Rose wasn't his first of much. She wasn't the first woman to travel with him, she wasn't the first woman he had wanted to kiss, and she wasn't the first woman to save his skin. She was the first to promise him her forever, which he did like, but in a single sentence from Mickey the idiot, it occurred to him that Rose had been with other men before, had had other friends, other adventures.

And she didn't tell him about them. He had been so concerned with making sure he didn't tell her much about his past, that he hadn't noticed her keeping her own to herself.

"Jimmy Stone," the Doctor repeated pensively, pulling a face. "So … she left school to date this bloke, then?" he hypothesized, eyeing Mickey for a reaction.

Mickey nodded, rocking on his feet. "Something like that. She said they were going on a road-trip 'round the country, seeing concerts and stuff, with a bunch of her mates and Jimmy's mates. Jackie was a big believer in letting people make their own mistakes, so she let Rose go with him."

The Doctor winced at the word 'mistake'. "What happened?" he asked, hesitant.

Mickey lowered his gaze and sighed. "Jimmy said they were going to pick up these 'mates' of his, in Bristol. He had this crappy little Toyota convertible, picked her up from Jackie's flat at like, five in the morning - before Jackie even got to say goodbye, and she ran off with him. Few weeks later, she came home by bus, down from the North - Jimmy dumped her up there, the git."

The Doctor pulled the skin of his lower lip into his mouth and chewed on it absently. The more he heard about this Jimmy, the less he liked.

"Turned out that there were no mates going with them, just the two of them. Rose didn't know until they were miles away. So it was just him and her, in a car, for five weeks," he paused, and clenched his teeth, and licked dry lips. "If he'd come back to London, I tell you what, I'd have knocked his teeth out. He just left her, you know? He got bored of her, and just … left her."

The Doctor suddenly understood Rose Tyler a bit better. He understood why she'd been so upset at hearing about how he'd left Sarah Jane. He swallowed against a dry feeling in his throat and breathed a sigh. In fact, he had done it to Rose, too. He'd sent her away from Satellite Five, and he had left her on that space station a few days ago. He was worse than this scumbag, Jimmy Stone - ten times worse, and still, Rose trusted him.

Mickey was watching the Doctor, practically hearing the gears of his mind working overtime. "Puts her in perspective, doesn't it?" he asked quietly.

The Doctor gave a nod. "No wonder Jackie doesn't like me," he said, trying to lighten the mood. He looked up to see Mickey eyeing him carefully, and gave a respectful half-smile. "I didn't know that," he suddenly said, his voice apologetic. "If I had … I don't know, maybe I'd have done things differently. Part of my way is to just wing it, though," he reasoned. "You had the TARDIS - it would've taken you two home, if I hadn't gotten back."

"Yeah, I know," Mickey laughed under his breath. "And she does too. It's not about her being safe, or stranded," he explained, fumbling slightly with the words in his mind. He gave a heavy breath and forced out, "I was there when you sent her back - I helped her rip open the TARDIS to find a way to get back to you. I know her about as well as anyone's ever _gonna _know her, and I know she would tear the universe apart to get back to you."

The Doctor nodded slowly. "I know that. And it scares me," he allowed, not a trace of hesitation in his voice. "Because one day, I'm going to have to let her go, and I have to worry about the things she might do to get back to me. It scares me … and at the same time, it …" he exhaled through his nose, smiling a bit, "It makes me proud."

Mickey fixed his eyes on the Doctor for a few more moments. "Why do you have to let her go? She said she was going to stay here forever. Why can't she?" Mickey asked carefully, looking back to the door, this time hoping Rose wasn't going to come back soon.

The Doctor looked away this time. "I already explained it to her. I can't watch her grow old and then watch her die … I just can't," he explained, covering up emotion with brazen stubbornness. "She wants to give me forever, but I can't give it back. No matter how much I might want to," he said, turning his back to Mickey and running a hand over some buttons on the control panel.

Mickey grunted under his breath. "So what does she do when _you _dump her up north?" he asked, voice hardening again.

The Doctor fought not to clench his teeth as he replied. "She settles down. Lives life like normal people do. She's got you, hasn't she?" he tried to reason, his eyes downcast.

Mickey gave a humorless laugh. "If you think she'll settle for me again, after you showed her the universe, you're a new kind of demented," he argued back. "Try again."

The Doctor froze, staring down at the buttons under his hands. "She …" he began, and then looked up into the middle-distance, trying to think of something that wouldn't hurt. "She'll … find someone. Find something else. I don't …" he felt his face twist in indecision and reluctance, before finally admitting, "I don't know."

Mickey then drawled out, "What was it that Sarah Jane did?" and began to move toward the Doctor, hands still in his pockets. "After you left her, do you think she just decided to be a detective straight away? How long d'you reckon it took her to get there?" he asked, raising his voice just a little bit.

"Mickey, stop it," the Doctor said quietly, back to the other man.

"No, I won't stop it," Mickey retorted, narrowing his eyes. "How long, Doctor? How long is Rose going to try to find her way back to you after you leave her? How long will she fight? How far will she go? How many years until she's ready to forget all the wonderful things you showed her?"

"Mickey," The Doctor hissed, his voice low and threatening.

"But Sarah Jane, she's special. She's a hard woman, to come back from that," Mickey reasoned, feigning thoughtfulness, "It must have only taken _her _about, oh, twenty years? I wonder if Rose is that strong. Maybe she is. What if she's not, Doctor? What then?" he pulled his hands out of his pockets and grabbed the Doctor's shoulder, spinning him around. "What if one day, Rose Tyler is sitting in a mental hospital trying to tell the white-coats about the wind-up clock robots from the 51st century, and they're shooting sedatives into her to get her to stop biting people?"

The Doctor was physically repelled by Mickey's barrage, finding himself trapped between the London boy and the console of his TARDIS. The heels of his hands found the console, and he leant back, away from Mickey. The Doctor opened his mouth to tell Mickey to stop, that he got the point, but Mickey just went _on. _And each and every single word that Mickey said was dripping with a possible truth, stinging the Time Lord's two hearts like fire.

Mickey opened his mouth to say something else; another blinding truth that would cut into the Doctor, but the Doctor didn't let him. His right hand, on the console behind him, balled into a fist and pulled backward, faster than Mickey could even blink. With all the effort in his body, the Doctor threw his hand into Mickey's mouth. The smack of skin on skin echoed through the room, and Mickey recoiled from the hit so quickly that he went straight down to the floor.

The Doctor took a step away from the console to stand over Mickey, and said, his tone dark and dangerous, "Don't you _dare _…" he paused, searching for words, "tell me about the 'what if's. I know all about the 'what if's; more than you could even _dream _of," he warned, leaning down a bit and pressing his lips into a hard line. He stood straighter and then, reluctantly, offered a hand to help Mickey up.

Mickey stared up at the Time Lord for a moment, his jaw burning with a pulsating ache, then reached up and grabbed the Doctor's extended wrist, pulling him down and forming a fist with his other hand. The Doctor yelped as he went down, and Mickey threw himself upward and thrust his knuckles into the other man's cheek. It hit hard, and the Doctor went tumbling to the grate flooring beside Mickey.

Taking advantage of the Doctor's surprise, Mickey hauled himself up and clawed for the Time Lord's jacket lapels, pulling him up roughly and them slamming him back down. The Doctor groaned out as the back of his head hit the grill of the floor, hands coming up to grab Mickey's wrists. Mickey released the jacket from one hand and formed a fist with it, pulling it back and aiming it for the Doctor's nose.

Mickey hit him, once, twice, three times … it could have been a hundred. The impact was amplified by the Doctor's cranium against the grate flooring, and it thundered in the Time Lord's head like the hooves of a mounted army, trampling his skull. His nose was bleeding, perhaps broken, his brow was bruised and there was a cut over his eye, his chin ached from the battering, and he had already bitten his tongue twice. And then, just like that, there was an opening. A hesitation. It was just timing.

Before Mickey could land another hit, the Doctor jerked his head out of Mickey's trajectory, and the fist aimed for his nose collided instead with the hard, grate metal flooring. Mickey growled out in pain, but the Doctor clenched his teeth, drew up a leg and shot his foot into Mickey's stomach, winding him and firing him backward. Mickey caught himself just as the Doctor moved to get up, and took the advantage again, though one hand was bloody and looked slightly mangled by the grate flooring.

Mickey jammed his elbow into the Doctor's back, making him groan and sink back down again, this time on his hands and knees. Mickey threw back his footy leg and kicked the Doctor in the stomach. The Doctor rolled onto his side, wheezing. Mickey was breathing hard, just as the Time Lord was, but he managed to seethe, "Superior Time Lord biology, yeah? Maybe there's a reason your lot are extinct," over a bloody lip.

The Doctor stared up at Mickey for only a moment through one eye, as the other was covered in blood from the cut over his eyebrow, before he snarled and grabbed Mickey by the ankle and yanked with all his might. Mickey's feet came out from under him, and he went down. He straddled the Londoner and formed a fist again. He hit Mickey with all his might, thud after thud, blow after blow, just as Mickey had.

The Doctor knew where to be careful - he knew not to go near Mickey's temple and risk damage to the skull's integrity, and he knew not to punch his nose up into his brain. He didn't want to kill Mickey, even if Mickey wanted to kill him. But he did want to give the idiot a right beating, so he punched, and he punched, and he just kept punching, ignoring the cuts forming on his knuckles from chance encounters with Mickey's teeth, and the pain searing through them.

Mickey's hands grabbed for the Doctor's face, fingernails ready to scratch, and all he could catch was the Doctor's tie. He grabbed it with both hands, and in a flash moment of brilliance, tightened it, choking the Time Lord, who immediately stopped punching and grabbed for his own throat. Mickey hoisted himself up just enough to throw a punch into the Doctor's stomach.

"You stupid ape!" the Doctor gasped, loosening his tie and tasting blood, clawing for Mickey as he threw him down. The Time Lord's back hit the grate, and he worried for a moment that he would be caught in another barrage. Mickey went for the torso, this time, and knocked the air right out of the Doctor.

Mickey's voice was growled between hits. "You pompous arse!" he countered, his fist delving into the Doctor's middle.

At this precise moment, the front door of the TARDIS opened and Rose Tyler stepped in, a black bin bag of clean laundry in one hand. She heard Mickey's shout, and looked up, expecting to see something funny going on, but instead, saw a bloodbath. She dropped the laundry and shouted out, racing toward the Doctor and Mickey, as they wrestled and punched one another.

"Doctor! Mickey! Stop it!" she shouted, reaching for Mickey's hoodie and moving to pull him off the Doctor. Mickey punched only one more time before he let her pull him off. When she did, he fell back on the floor, wheezing out and staring at the ceiling of the TARDIS. The Doctor groaned, gripping his stomach in pain with a bloody hand. She stood between them, eyes shifting from one to the other in confusion, before she simply put a hand to her forehead and exhaled, lost for words.

She looked to Mickey. He met her look with a look of exhaustion on his face, though gave a sheepish, apologetic smile.

She looked to the Doctor. He watched her through one eye, with an unreadable expression on his face, still breathing in wheezes.

Rose pulled her lower lip into her mouth and chewed on it for a moment. "What happened?" she asked, both hands coming up to the sides of her head. "You … you _idiots,_" she suddenly said, shocked by their wild, stupid actions. She slowly extended a hand to the Doctor first, and he reached up to take it. Mickey wasn't surprised, or even hurt, just a little bit sickened by it. How could the Doctor disregard how much she loved him?

Rose helped the Doctor into the jump seat by the console, and he wiped at his brow with his less-injured left hand, hunching over and wincing. "It's not important," the Doctor said sharply, avoiding her gaze and taking a look at the damage on his knuckles.

Mickey climbed up before Rose could give him a hand. "Which translates as 'The Doctor doesn't want to talk about it'," Mickey corrected dryly, hissing at the pain in his right hand. It was cut up pretty badly, and he could see the bone of his right ring finger peeking between the gouged skin. It was a good thing most of the pain hadn't kicked in yet. Rose searched Mickey's eyes, looking for some kind of explanation, but Mickey said nothing else. "It's alright, Rose," he said stiffly, leaning against the rail of the TARDIS, "This is how blokes bond," he joked lamely.

Rose tilted her head at the bad joke and scowled at him. "You're seriously not going to tell me," she realized breathily, then put her hands on her hips and looked down at a red patch on the grate flooring. She quickly drew the connection between the bloody patch of floor and the mangled look of Mickey's hand. She breathed in deeply and looked back to the Doctor, who had been watching her, but quickly looked away now. "You both need to get to the TARDIS infirmary," she decided, hardening her expression.

Mickey scoffed and shook his head, making for the front door of the TARDIS. "I'm off to the hospital," he called over his shoulder, still carefully cradling his broken hand.

Rose moved to tell him to stop, but he was out, the door slammed shut behind him, before she could even open her mouth. She stared at the door a moment, then approached the Doctor, who finally looked up, blood running from his nose and mouth, a cut over his eye still weeping blood.

He breathed a sigh through his mouth. "Sorry," he ran his tongue over his lower lip, over the cut on it.

Rose didn't realize that he was apologizing for more than just being an idiot and having a punch-up with Mickey. She shook her head. "Never mind it. Let's just … get you fixed up," she gave a weak smile, and offered a hand to help him up. He slipped his hand into hers - a perfect fit - and got up.

The Doctor watched her carefully, as she led him into the ship, toward the infirmary. As much as he hated to admit it, Mickey the idiot had been right. Maybe he really was just throwing away the forever she had offered him to save himself some heartache. He was going to pawn off the pain on her, let her live out her life without him so that he didn't have to see her get old.

Rose sat him down on a bed in the infirmary, and grabbed some ice packs from a freezer. He hissed when she pressed one onto his worse looking hand and nearly bit his lip, but stopped himself when the cut there stung him. Rose got a soft white cloth, ran it under some cold water, wrung it until it was damp, and slid a chair over to where he was sat. She began to dab, gently, at his wounds, smiling sadly.

"Rose," the Doctor said, one eye still shut, "I …" he began, but then stopped himself. What was he really going to say to her? Could he really have her forever, and watch her grow old, and have her die in his arms? It would hurt so much. But it would be exactly what she wanted. He didn't know if he could give her that. The Doctor sighed. "Mickey told me about Jimmy Stone," he deflected.

Rose had her eyes fixed on the cut over his eye, and tightened her jaw just a little bit at the name. She said nothing for a moment, her careful touch on his wound soothing, until she said, slowly, "Figured that name would be mentioned after a punch-up, one day," with a thoughtful undertone to her voice. She sighed. "What'd he tell you? That I got kidnapped when I was a kid?" she tried to joke, but it came out a bit forced.

The Doctor gave a weak smile of his own, and it made his lip hurt. "Not quite," he answered dully, "Told me I wasn't the first bloke to sweep you off your feet and show you the world."

Rose blanched a bit, and her gentle touch stiffened momentarily, dabbing a little too roughly against the cut over his eye. He noted the change in her demeanor, but didn't flinch against the pain from his cut. She drew a breath, and then swallowed hard. "It wasn't like that. I didn't just run off with you because I'm just like that, 'cause I like to run off with men. It's not like that with us, with the TARDIS."

The Doctor continued to watch her, wondering at the concerned way her eyes flicked from one cut to the next on his face. "I know that," he replied, glancing downward. "He um … said that this Jimmy left you. Up north. Kind of like how I left Sarah Jane," he pointed out glumly.

Rose removed the cloth from his brow and took a look at the blood on it. "It's different," she argued, getting up and going back to the sink. She ran the cloth under cool water, until it was almost white again, wrung it out again, and returned to her seat near the Doctor.

"It's not," the Doctor insisted, breathing in and feeling his stomach ache from Mickey's well-placed punches. "Maybe the reasons were different, but the effect I had on Sarah Jane was the same as the effect Jimmy Stone had on you. I left her. I hurt her."

Rose brought the cloth up to the Doctor's nose, and carefully wiped at the drying trail of blood beneath it. She gave a reluctant kind of whine in her throat. "It's not the same," she tried, though sounding a bit less sure of herself this time.

"It's exactly the same," the Doctor said softly, lifting the ice pack from his right hand and taking a glance at the cuts on his knuckles. He winced and put the ice pack back.

Rose shook her head and frowned. "Alright then. It's the same. But I asked you back then, if you were going to do the same thing to me, and you said no."

The Doctor smiled sadly. "And you trust me," he stated, his voice bittersweet. "You trust me not to do that to you."

Rose's eyes flicked from the cloth in her hand to the Time Lord's ancient eyes. "You say that like I shouldn't," she pointed out, her voice apprehensive.

"Rose," the Doctor said carefully, looking deep into her eyes. He searched her eyes, her beautiful brown eyes, for some kind of way to explain it to her. He raised his less injured hand and put his fingertip to her cheek, though it made his whole hand fizzle with pain. She looked scared. "I didn't lie to you, then. If you really want to, you can stay with me for as long as you live," he offered, his worry writing itself on his face.

"I already told you that's what I want," Rose stated, suspicious with what he was trying to say.

The Doctor swallowed hard and stared into her eyes. So this was what it came down to. Either he had to feel the pain of watching her die, or she had to feel the pain of him leaving her behind. The Doctor slid his hand closer to her cheek, cupping it, his thumb sitting near her lips. It was a choice between her pain and his. The Doctor chose to bear the pain himself.

"Alright then," he said, and when the words came out, they stumbled over a lump in his throat. He gave a weak smile. "I'll have that forever you offered," he joked softly, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Rose watched him, her eyes careful and wary. She trusted him, he reminded himself - she was just confused. He grazed the pad of his thumb over her lower lip, and smiled. Through her skin, he could feel her heart rate speed up, her cheek heating beneath his fingers. He'd have kissed her, if his lip didn't hurt as much as it did. Never mind though - he'd give her a very nice surprise kiss when he was all healed up.

Rose continued to dab at the Doctor's bloody top lip. "So, Mickey hit you first, then?" she queried nervously, as the Time Lord's hand fell away from her cheek.

The Doctor gave a breathy laugh. "Nope," he negated. "Punched him in the mouth," he announced proudly.

Rose shook her head. "So much for the non-violent approach," she thought aloud, taking the cloth away and having a look at the Doctor's nose. She winced. "Ooph. Doctor, I think he broke your nose," she pulled a face and put the damp cloth down on the bed beside him. She got up and put a hand either side of his face, thumbs at the sides of his nose, near the puffing expanse of skin where he would soon develop a black eye.

The Doctor grinned, despite the pain burning him in a hundred places. "I think he broke my everything," he argued breathily, causing Rose to giggle. "Hang on," he said, just before Rose moved to fix his nose, "How do you know how to reset a broken nose?" he asked, genuinely curious.

Rose snorted a laugh. "D'you reckon you're the only bloke Mickey's ever been thick enough to get in a fight with?" she asked, brows lifting up. She removed one hand from his face to reach into her pocket, looking for something. She searched for a moment until she found a pencil, and extended it to him. "You might want to bite down on this," she suggested.

The Doctor shot her a brilliant smile, and then put the pencil between his teeth. This - he reminded himself, as she began to push his nose back into place, and pain exploded in his face - was nothing compared to what he would feel when she was gone. But, until then, he had a whole forever with her, and he was going to cherish that forever. It took Rose two tries to get his nose just right, and when she finally did, the Doctor saw someone appear behind her in the doorway of the infirmary.

Mickey was back, with his hand bandaged up. Mickey took a look at the Time Lord and then gave a weak smile. "What happened to you, boss? Look like you got in a fight with someone," he teased lightheartedly.

Rose threw him a dark look, but the Doctor only laughed. "Yeah, I did," he agreed, "Just some bloke off the estate - hell of a good punch on him, though."

Mickey grinned and shook his head. "You're not too bad, either, old man," he allowed, eyeing the Doctor through one good eye and one swelling one, and leant against the wall, chuckling.

The Doctor, last of the Time Lords, and Mickey the idiot of the Powell Estate, laughed at themselves for a long while, and Rose Tyler stood between them, with absolutely no idea what they thought was so funny.


End file.
